And Boland knows you know a lot about it. Otherwise he wouldn't
have sent you down here."

"Yes?" Miss Masters was silent for a moment. "Druce," she went on, "did
you ever hear of the Broughton Club?"

"Sure, that swell joint in St. Louis?"

"Yes. Well, I'm interested in it."

"As owner?"

"Never mind about that. I'm interested in it and one of my reasons for
calling on you is to get some girls for the club."

"You want to buy some girls?"

"You said it."

"From me?"

"From you, if I can get the right figures. If I can't, I'll try
elsewhere. You're not the only 'dealer in live stock' in the Levee."

"I'll make the figures right."

"I'm interested in this place."

"In the Cafe Sinister?"

"Yes, I want to know something about your methods. We don't know it all
in St. Louis. I think I can pick up a little information here. I'm going
back to St. Louis in a month. I want to take some girls back with me, and
I'd like to find out just how a first class joint like the Cafe Sinister
is operated in Chicago."

"Is this a proposition?"

"Yes, it's a proposition."

"All right. Go on."

"I want to live at the Cafe Sinister during the week our deal for the
lease is on. I'll take rooms in your--a--hotel, upstairs.

"And I'll be around the cafe, and making myself at home generally," added
Miss Masters, reassuringly.

"Go as far as you like," answered Druce, "and if you need a body guard,"
he added, with a knowing wink, "why, you know me."

Miss Masters' eyes narrowed. "I told you I could look out for myself,"
she answered.

"You'll have to look out for yourself," retorted Druce significantly.

"Let me do the worrying about that."

Druce was silent. He had determined to accept Miss Masters' offer. He
felt that she was walking into his trap and yet, so great had grown his
respect for her that he did not know his next move.

"I'll have a suite prepared for you," he said.

"That's settled, then."

Miss Masters got up from her seat. As she did so Druce attempted a
caress. "I'm going to collect part of the rent in advance," he said.

"Are you?" Miss Masters pushed him away sharply. He did not repeat his
indiscretion. Instead he stood back respectfully to let her pass. In the
palm of her hand with the muzzle pointing firmly in his direction he saw
a small, steel-blue magazine pistol. The girl's finger was on the
trigger.

"If you'll have one of your servants show me the suite," said Miss
Masters, "I'll t